The hallway stretched ahead of us, dimly lit, eerily silent as we made our way toward Ms. Sinclair's office. The further we walked, the heavier the air became, as if the walls themselves were holding secrets, waiting for the right moment to whisper them into the dark.
I could feel it.
The way the academy felt wrong.
Not just because of what happened tonight.
Not just because of the Headmaster's warning.
But because there was something lurking beneath the surface.
Something that had been waiting.
And for the first time, I wasn't sure if I was the one watching it—
Or if it was watching me.
Camille was the first to break the silence. "Her office should be just around the next hall."
Claire groaned dramatically. "Finally. Do you know how much effort it takes to sneak around this place? I feel like we should be getting credit for this level of dedication."
Tessa snorted. "You're acting like this is the first time you've done something illegal."
Claire gasped, placing a hand over her chest. "I am offended. I would never break the law."
Tessa raised a brow. "You once forged student records to steal a whole cart of imported sweets from the dining hall."
Claire waved a hand. "That was a humanitarian effort."
Camille sighed.
I ignored them, already reaching for the handle of Ms. Sinclair's office door.
It was locked.
Of course.
I glanced at Camille. "I assume you don't happen to have a key?"
Camille gave me a flat look. "No, Sera. I do not have a key to Ms. Sinclair's private office."
Claire cracked her knuckles. "Looks like I'm finally useful."
Tessa raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you actually know how to pick a lock?"
Claire winked. "I'm a woman of many talents."
"Mostly illegal ones," Camille muttered.
Claire ignored her, pulling something thin and metallic from her sleeve before crouching by the door handle. "Give me a second—"
A click.
The door swung open.
Claire blinked.
We all stared.
"…I didn't do that," she admitted.
I exchanged a glance with Camille before slowly stepping forward, pushing the door open fully.
The room was dark.
Too dark.
I could barely make out the outline of bookshelves lining the walls, the massive desk at the far end of the room, the windows shut tight despite the faint scent of night air still lingering in the air.
Something wasn't right.
Tessa shifted, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword. "This doesn't feel—"
I stepped inside.
And then—
A flicker.
A presence.
The very second my boot touched the floor—
A hand closed around my wrist.
Cold. Strong.
And then, a voice—low, composed, edged with something dangerous.
"I was wondering when you'd come."
The door slammed shut behind us.
In an instant, magic surged through my veins, my instincts snapping into place, ready to react—ready to fight—
But before I could so much as summon a dagger, a warm, flickering glow lit up the room.
A single candle.
And behind the desk, sitting perfectly calm, fingers laced together, expression unreadable—
Evelyn Sinclair.
Her gaze settled on me first, silver-rimmed glasses glinting in the dim candlelight. Then, with an almost absent flick of her wrist, she let go of my wrist, leaning back into her chair as if nothing had happened.
"Lady Vandren," she murmured, smooth as silk, "I would say I'm surprised to see you here, but I think we both know that would be a lie."
I exhaled slowly, pulling my hand back as I stepped fully into the room.
Camille was right behind me, her sharp gaze scanning the office—not for documents. For threats.
Tessa and Claire followed just as carefully, though Claire still looked mildly offended.
"You scared the hell out of me," Claire muttered, placing a hand over her chest.
Evelyn's lips twitched. "My apologies."
She didn't sound sorry at all.
I took another step forward, watching her carefully. "You were expecting us."
Evelyn tilted her head. "I was expecting you, Lady Vandren. The rest?" She smiled slightly, gaze flickering over my companions. "That was an interesting surprise."
Tessa leaned against a bookshelf, arms crossed. "So, are you going to tell us what's going on, or do we have to sneak through your desk like criminals?"
Evelyn lifted a delicate brow. "Oh, by all means, please try. I would love to see how far you'd get before triggering one of the wards I've placed on this room."
Claire, who had already started moving toward the desk, immediately took a step back.
Evelyn let out a quiet chuckle, resting her chin against the back of her hands. "I assume you're not here for idle conversation."
Camille spoke this time, voice calm, but pointed. "The Headmaster intercepted us."
Evelyn's expression didn't change.
But I saw it.
The smallest shift in her eyes.
Interest.
And something else.
Something closer to annoyance.
"Did he?" she murmured.
Claire scoffed. "Yeah, he basically told us to forget everything and go to sleep like good little students."
Tessa snorted. "Right before nearly crushing us with pure intimidation."
Evelyn exhaled softly, leaning back slightly in her chair.
For a long moment, she didn't speak.
Then, finally—
"Do you want the truth?" she asked simply.
I stared at her.
Something in my chest tightened.
Because for all the cryptic nonsense we had been forced to deal with tonight—she sounded serious.
Dead serious.
"Yes," I said.
Her gaze met mine.
And then, finally—
She took off her glasses, folding them neatly before placing them on the desk.
And the next words that came out of her mouth changed everything.
"The North Gate has already fallen."
The room froze.
Claire stopped breathing.
Tessa's grip on her sword tightened.
Camille's expression didn't change—not at first. But I saw the way her fingers curled slightly, the way her magic spiked ever so faintly in response.
I felt my own heartbeat skip.
"What?" I said, my voice quieter than I wanted it to be.
Evelyn didn't repeat herself.
She didn't need to.
Because we had all heard her.
And suddenly, everything—the silence of the academy, the tension in the city, the Headmaster's warning, Lillian's sudden summons to the palace, Diana's forced return to her estate—
It all made sense.
Or rather—
It made too much sense.
The empire wasn't fighting to hold the North Gate anymore.
It was already gone.
And they had been lying to us about it.
Evelyn sighed softly, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I shouldn't be telling you this," she admitted, "but I assume you would have found out soon enough. You're far too stubborn to let things go."
She wasn't wrong.
I forced myself to stay calm.
To think.
If the North Gate had already fallen—
Then where were my parents?
Where was Diana's father?
Where were the soldiers who had been sent to hold the line?
"What about the South?" Camille asked, her voice carefully neutral.
Evelyn's lips pressed together.
"Not yet," she said. "But it's only a matter of time."
The room felt too small.
Too fragile.
Like one wrong word would shatter the entire illusion we had been living in.
Tessa muttered another curse, running a hand through her hair. "So what now?"
I already knew the answer.
I saw it in Evelyn's silver gaze, in the exhaustion that had settled into her face.
She wasn't just a professor.
She was someone involved in this war.
Someone who knew far more than she was allowed to say.
And yet, here she was, telling us anyway.
Because maybe—just maybe—
She knew what we were about to do.
She knew we wouldn't stay out of this.
I took a slow breath.
And then, with absolute certainty, I spoke.
"We're going to find out the rest."
Evelyn didn't look surprised.
She just sighed.
And then—
She smiled.
"Then I suggest you move quickly," she murmured. "Because I can promise you—you won't be the only ones looking."
I should have expected this. All of it.
The academy covering up the truth.
The North Gate already lost.
The war wasn't creeping toward us—it had already begun.
And what Evelyn had just revealed—that we weren't the only ones looking for answers—
That wasn't just a warning.
It was a confirmation.
Because of course, we weren't the only ones.
Power-hungry nobles. Desperate royals. Those who thrived in the shadows of war.
And, of course, the Headmaster himself.
But the moment Evelyn laid the choice before us, something clicked into place.
A choice?
She still thought we had one?
There was never a choice.
We were already in this.
We had always been in this.
I lifted my chin, voice smooth, unwavering. "Who else is looking?"
Evelyn studied me carefully, assessing. I could see it in her sharp silver eyes—the moment she decided how much she was willing to give away.
Then, finally—
"The nobility," she said. "The royals. The factions who have had their eyes on this conflict long before it reached our gates."
She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin against the back of her hands.
"And, of course, the Headmaster."
A slow, creeping tension coiled in my chest.
I had already suspected that.
But hearing her say it aloud made it real.
Claire exhaled sharply, her violet eyes dark with something I had never quite seen in her before. "So we're dealing with more than just politics and war. We're dealing with… what? An internal power struggle?"
Evelyn's expression didn't change. "Something like that."
Camille was unreadable. Silent. Still. Watching. Calculating.
Tessa scoffed, shifting her stance. "So what does that mean for us?"
Evelyn tilted her head. "It means you have a choice."
I almost laughed.
A choice?
Did we, really?
Because if we walked away now, we'd be running blind.
And if we did nothing?
This war would find us anyway.
Lillian had already been pulled away to the palace.
Diana had been sent back to her estate.
One by one, we were being removed.
Not as students.
As pieces.
As potential threats.
I met Evelyn's gaze directly. "We're already in it."
Her lips curved slightly. "I thought you'd say that."
She reached under her desk, pulling out a thick stack of papers—old, worn, edges slightly frayed.
And then, with a deliberate motion, she slid them across the desk toward me.
I lifted one, flipping it open.
Battle reports.
The ink was faded in places, hastily scrawled in others. But what struck me the most?
The signatures at the bottom.
Some were from military officers, strategists.
Others?
From names I knew.
Names I shouldn't be seeing here.
Camille stepped closer, eyes narrowing as she skimmed one over. "These are…"
"Unreleased," Evelyn confirmed. "These never made it to the public. Some of these reports were buried before they ever reached the royal court."
Tessa swore. "That bad?"
"Worse," Evelyn murmured.
Claire hesitated before picking up a report of her own, flipping through the pages with far more care than she usually handled anything.
I barely heard them.
Because my eyes had already found what I had been searching for.
North Gate Casualties
The list was long.
Too long.
Some of the names were unfamiliar. Officers, soldiers—unknown figures to me.
But then—
Duke Orion Hayes – Status: Missing
Diana's father.
Missing.
Not dead.
Not alive.
Missing.
My grip on the page tightened.
I forced my breath to stay steady as I read further down.
Duke Elias Vandren – Status: Unconfirmed
My father.
Unconfirmed.
The ink beneath his name was smudged, as if someone had hesitated while writing it.
And then—
I noticed what wasn't there.
My mother's name.
Nowhere on the list.
Not as missing.
Not as unconfirmed.
Nothing.
Because her fate wasn't unknown.
It was buried.
Erased.
Silenced.
Evelyn was still watching me.
She had known.
She had known exactly what was in these reports before she handed them to me.
And she had let me read them anyway.
I lowered the paper, pressing my fingers against the desk just slightly to ground myself.
Then, lifting my gaze, I spoke.
"When do we leave?"
Tessa blinked. "Excuse me?"
Claire choked. "What?"
Camille didn't react.
But she was watching me very, very closely.
Evelyn smiled.
As if she had been waiting for that exact response.
"The moment you're ready," she said simply.
I waited.
Waited until the others had left the room, their reluctant footsteps fading down the hall, leaving behind only the distant murmur of voices.
Waited until it was just me and Evelyn Sinclair.
Only when the door clicked shut behind Claire's grumbling complaints did I finally turn back toward her, arms crossed.
"Evelyn," I said, tilting my head slightly. "Lady Vandren? Seriously?"
Evelyn raised a brow, amused. "Would you prefer something else?"
"You didn't always call me that," I pointed out smoothly.
From the back of my mind, Chloe's voice hummed with interest.
'Ah, that's right. It makes my heart race a bit every time she called me by the first name.'
I smirked slightly. Of course it did.
Evelyn, for her part, leaned back in her chair, elegantly composed as always. "For more formal situations such as this, I think it's better to refer to you as Lady Vandren, Sera."
"Formality, huh?" I mused, watching her carefully. "I suppose that's fine, Evelyn."
The corner of her lips curved, the soft laugh that followed sending a warm ripple through the otherwise tense air.
She wasn't nervous.
She wasn't guarded.
If anything—she looked at ease.
As if she had already accepted that whatever happened next, we were going to see it through.
Her gaze flickered toward my neck, and her deep amber eyes softened just slightly.
"I see you're still wearing the fire-magic amplifying necklace I gave you," she murmured, her gaze lingering on the fiery gemstone nestled against my collarbone. The soft glow of the candlelight flickered against its surface, casting a warm shimmer across my skin.
I glanced down, my fingers brushing against the pendant. The golden chain gleamed, its delicate engravings catching the light, but the gem itself—
It looked even brighter than before.
More alive.
"It's purer now," Evelyn observed, tapping a single finger against the desk. "It's adapting to you."
I lifted the pendant slightly, feeling the familiar warmth pulsing gently against my fingertips. "That was a while ago," I mused. "And how could I just throw away a gift from you?"
From the depths of my mind, Chloe's voice deadpanned.
'Hey… are you flirting with my professor right now?'
'Our professor.'
'Shameless.'
I almost laughed.
Evelyn only smiled, the kind of smile that wasn't entirely professional. The kind that held understanding.
She studied me closely now, her gaze sweeping over me in a way that was not intrusive, but careful. As if she were assessing something deeper than just my appearance.
"You seem different," she noted. "More mature."
I met her gaze evenly. "I have to be."
She held my stare for a moment.
Then, with a soft exhale, she nodded.
"That's true."
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
The candlelight flickered between us, shadows dancing along the walls, curling at the edges of the room.
And in that moment, something unspoken passed between us.
Understanding.
Acknowledgment.
Because no matter what happened next—
We both knew.
There was no going back.